Page 5 of Whispers Left Behind (Kinsley Aspen #1)

Chapter Five

Kinsley Aspen October Friday — 8:44 am

The persistent buzz of Kinsley's cell phone confirmed the caller wasn’t giving up anytime soon. She didn’t need the display on her phone for identification, either. It was best to have the conversation sooner rather than later.

“Sebastian Hanson can wait a few minutes.” Kinsley sank back in her seat while keeping the wheels in place with the soles of her boots. “There are donuts in the break room.”

Alex afforded her a silent acknowledgment as he pushed his chair forward so the arms were even to his desk. She didn’t miss his glance in Detective Mitchell’s direction, though the woman had exited the area five minutes ago.

It was no mystery that rumors about the two of them had been circulating throughout the precinct. It was speculation that Kinsley had staunchly ignored up until recently, but Haugen had started a pool earlier this week. It wasn’t that the detective had inside information about his own partner, but rather intel from a patrol officer who had spotted Laura’s vehicle parked a block from Alex’s apartment building.

Kinsley had planned to speak with Alex this morning while catching up on some paperwork. His call last night and the subsequent assigned case had pushed back such a chat. She would make sure to bring it up later this morning during their drive out to Halliday.

Pressing her cell phone to her ear, she waived the formalities.

“Now isn't a good time, Dad.” Before he could speak, she continued to answer his unspoken question. It wasn’t a stretch to believe that was why he was reaching out to her. She could count on one hand the times he had called her in the past year. “It’s not Gantz.”

The long pause only created more tension between them.

“Your mother saw the paper this morning. She’s concerned, and I gave her my word that I would check in with you today.”

If anyone had asked Kinsley about her father a year ago, she would have responded that George Aspen was a family man first and a lawyer second. He had given her cause to question such a belief. As a seasoned defense attorney with decades of experience, he had built a reputation for being one of the best in the field. He was capable of making compelling arguments that could sway even the most stubborn minds.

In her opinion, her father had tarnished any such credibility.

It hadn’t been his controversial decision to defend Calvin Gantz that had her viewing her father in such a negative light, but the fact that he had used her private conversation to aid in the man’s defense. Unlike her reasoning, some residents still harbored resentment because they couldn’t understand why George Aspen would willingly represent the Fallbrook Killer.

After all, the man had taken the lives of two local women.

George had made a public statement on the courthouse steps to convey a message that everyone deserved a good defense. He even went so far as to point out that Calvin Gantz was also a resident of Fallbrook. Though his parents, Mary and Frank, had passed away years ago, they would have wanted their friends and neighbors to give the benefit of the doubt when it came to charges brought against their son.

“I’ll give Mom a call later tonight,” Kinsley responded, matching her father’s precise tone. In the middle of the bullpen, another detective was carefully tying the bag from Sam’s garbage can to prevent any odor from escaping what was left of the tofu. It would be hours before the stench faded from the area. “I’ve got to go.”

“You should know that Lily saved you a pumpkin for next Thursday.”

The olive branch wasn’t even remotely thick enough.

Dylan’s words from last night echoed in her mind. It wasn’t that she couldn’t discern how deeply her father wanted to make amends. It was the consequences of his actions that she had a difficult time forgiving this past year. While he couldn’t have known that by helping Gantz walk free, she would essentially be in a mental prison for the rest of her life.

“I’ll see you then.”

Kinsley disconnected the call with a press of her thumb. Her chest tightened at the emotional distance between them, and a part of her wished she could confide in him. Maybe slip him a dollar to hire him as her attorney. He would be bound to keep her secret, but he would also have many more questions than she was willing to answer about that night.

Her gaze landed on the grainy monochrome photograph that dominated the newspaper's front page left on her desk. Gantz stared back with hollow eyes that seemed to cast judgment.

Ironic, really.

Kinsley hadn’t known the man’s mother, but residents recalled her being a cordial woman who tended to her rose bushes with delicate care. A widow who had lost her husband in a tragic farming accident, she had succumbed to cancer over a decade ago. Before her death, she had sold the family farm and moved into one of the middle-class neighborhoods of Fallbrook. The homeowner’s association had taken to tending the lawn for the sake of appearances after Gantz’s disappearance. Considering that everyone believed he had left town of his own volition, no one could force a sale until such time back taxes forced the issue.

The air had turned quite stagnant in the bullpen. Kinsley found it rather difficult to breathe, and she instinctively grabbed the newspaper and tossed it in the small garbage can on the other side of her desk. She removed her jacket, tossed it over the back of her chair, and set her phone face down on her desk. There was no need to tempt fate and have it result in another family member calling to check in on her.

She made sure to collect her electronic tablet before crossing the bullpen. The station had finally stepped into the technological era, and she couldn’t be more grateful. Alex, on the other hand, preferred to type his written notes after the fact. He was currently standing in the hallway, shoving half a donut into his mouth. Neither one of them said anything on their stroll to Room Two.

The only difference between the interrogation room and where Sebastian Hanson waited for them was a single painting on the wall and a small coffee station. The table and chairs were the same, and the sterile environment needed a lot more décor to be considered pleasant.

“Looks like the drops finally worked,” Kinsley offered up as they came to a stop in front of the door. Alex was no longer blinking three times a second. “And was that your workout bag I saw you bring in earlier?”

“I shouldn’t have taken a break from the gym after our flag football season ended,” Alex complained as he rotated his right shoulder. “I hit forty in four months. I’m getting too old for these types of all-nighters, Kin.”

Kinsley wisely remained silent, though she would need to address the rumors about him and Mitchell circulating at some point. Right now, it was imperative to solve this case so Gantz’s name was taken out of the spotlight. A part of her understood the selfishness of such a wish, but her spot in hell had probably already been solidified. A few minor sins wouldn’t make much of a difference.

“How do you want to approach this?”

“We’ll take our cues from Hanson.” Kinsley made sure her tone betrayed none of the anxiety that churned beneath her calm exterior. “Hanson came into the station voluntarily. Had he not and then waited for us to seek him out this afternoon, I would have put him at the top of our list.”

“Who are you kidding?” Alex muttered as he wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers. “The spouse is always at the top of the list.”

Kinsley reached out and turned the handle. She was grateful that her partner hadn’t brought up any more theories on the Gantz angle. They needed to follow the facts of the case and not chase ghosts of the past. With a single push, she entered the room first.

“Mr. Hanson, I’m Detective Kinsley Aspen, and this is my partner—Detective Alex Lanen.” Kinsley set her tablet on the table before offering her hand. She waited until the man accepted her gesture to establish eye contact, intentionally avoiding the other man’s interest. “You have our deepest condolences.”

Sebastian Hanson was quite tall. Kinsley gauged his height to be at least three inches over six feet. His back had been to the door as he paced in measured strides behind the table before turning to greet them. He had a runner’s body, as was evident by the unkept fabric of his dress shirt. His tie hung loose and skewed, and his jacket was nowhere to be found.

Grief was written all over the man’s features.

It appeared that Alex wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. She would reserve judgment on whether Sebastian’s reaction and subsequent appearance were genuine or just an act.

“Have you found the bastard?” Sebastian asked desperately, his voice huskier than Kinsley had expected, given his lean frame. He hadn’t glanced in Alex’s direction. “Please. Tell me you know who—”

Sebastian’s voice broke.

“Come on, Bass. Take a seat.”

The man standing beside him pulled out a chair. It didn’t take more than the touch of a hand for him to basically collapse in the seat. The two men had similar square features and dark brown eyes, so she wasn’t surprised by the connection when it was verbally confirmed with another handshake.

“Jack Hanson,” he introduced before pulling out the second chair. “Sebastian’s brother.”

Alex strolled over to the coffee station. The two of them had an unspoken rule when entering an interview room. When the individual in question focused and appeared at ease with one of them, that person took the lead. In this particular case, Sebastian had heard Kinsley’s name from his mother-in-law. It was understandable that he would subconsciously address her, seeking answers.

“May we get you some coffee?” Kinsley settled in the chair across from them. Sebastian covered his face with his hands in an effort to compose himself. “Water, perhaps?”

“No,” Sebastian replied curtly, dropping his hands until his knuckles hit the table. “All I want is for you to tell me you made an arrest.”

“Bass, you should have some coffee,” Jack intervened before demonstratively patting his brother on the back. “It’s been a long night, and we need to get back to Louise’s house after this.”

Kinsley made the compassionate decision to give Sebastian the time to process his emotions. The weight of grief for a loved one’s passing was all-consuming, and it was obvious from his body language that he was well past the denial stage.

The man was angry, and he wanted answers.

Alex delivered the first two mugs to Sebastian and Jack before returning to the coffee station. It wasn’t long before a mug was set in front of her, the rich aroma of the dark beverage filling the space. Anything was better than being constantly accosted by the rancid odor of Haugen’s breakfast.

The chair’s legs scraped against the tiled floor as Alex pulled out his seat. He didn’t bother to edge closer to the table but, instead, remained far enough away that he was able to rest his elbows on his knees. He held the steaming mug in his hands as he waited for Kinsley to set the tone.

“Mr. Hanson, do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your wife?”

“No one would want to hurt Rachel," Sebastian replied, his voice thick with emotion. He dropped his gaze to his coffee. “She was...beautiful. Sweet. Generous. Kind.”

Sebastian used the back of his hand to wipe his nose.

“A month ago, Rachel brought traffic to a halt over on Third Avenue for a turtle. She was on her way to work, and she braked so hard that the car behind her didn’t have a chance to stop. She literally got out of her car and picked up the turtle, all the while some guy was screaming at her. She carried it across to the pond behind the auto dealership. She always did the right thing, regardless of how it looked to other people.”

“Did Rachel have any plans on Wednesday evening? I know that you were out of town in Bismarck for business, but maybe she mentioned needing to go somewhere later that night?” Kinsley had deliberately inserted his business trip into her inquiry. It wouldn’t do to have him go on the defensive so early in the interview process. “The location where we discovered your wife’s car was on one of the backroads toward Halliday.”

“I spoke to Rachel around six o’clock on Wednesday night.” Sebastian might not have caught on to Kinsley’s tactic, but his brother certainly had if the narrowing of his eyes was anything to go by. “She said that she was going to make herself something for dinner, stream a movie, and then turn in early. The finance department at the dealership had a conference call scheduled with their headquarters in Detroit at eight o’clock the next morning regarding some software update.”

“Do the two of you usually talk every day when you’re out of town on business?”

“Always.”

“Did it strike you as odd, then? Not hearing from her at all yesterday?”

“I don’t know where this is going, but—”

“Jack, it’s fine,” Sebastian interjected, never once taking his focus off Kinsley. “Yes. Look at her phone records. I called my wife back on Wednesday night to say goodnight. It was a little after eleven. She didn’t answer, and I assumed that she was asleep. As for yesterday, I was in meetings all day, with an important group dinner scheduled at six o’clock. I left multiple messages. I assumed that she was busy at work. I didn’t…”

“You couldn’t have known, Bass.” Jack attempted to ease his brother’s guilt, but he wasn’t even remotely successful in that endeavor.

“I spoke with Tobias this morning. He swears that Rachel didn’t drive out to see him Wednesday night. So, whatever or whoever got my wife on that road is the person who killed her.” Sebastian zeroed in on Kinsley as he began to pepper her with questions. “Did you find her cell phone? Can you trace the call? Maybe find out if someone lured her out to the country? What about street cameras? There might not be any on those backroads, but there are some on the path from our house to the turnoff she usually takes to drive up to Halliday. If she was on her way to the farm, and she didn’t make it to—”

“Your wife appeared to be driving toward home when she was run off the road, Mr. Hanson.”

Kinsley hadn’t been going to offer up any such details in the case thus far, but there were times it benefited from following the respondent’s lead. What she didn’t mention were the several warrants submitted for approval to search his residence, vehicles, and property.

“Can we just cut to the chase?” Jack turned his attention to Alex, who had straightened in his chair. “All anyone can talk about on the news is the Fallbrook Killer. Did Gantz come back to town? Or was he never the guilty party? If Calvin Gantz didn’t murder those two women last year, that means you let whoever it was slip through your fingers. Now Rachel is dead.”

Sebastian pressed a fist to his mouth in response to his brother’s statement.

“We did not—”

“We’re aware of this morning’s headlines, Mr. Hanson,” Alex said, cutting Kinsley off before she spoke out of turn. She took the reprieve to redirect her anger. “While we can’t speak to the specifics of last year’s investigation, there is evidence not consistent with those murders. We don’t believe the cases are related in any way.”

“Are you serious?” Jack asked before emitting a hollow laugh. “A barn in the middle of nowhere, her throat slit and left to bleed out…what more proof do you want that the Fallbrook Killer is back?”

Both Kinsley and Alex remained silent while Sebastian pushed away from the table. His coffee sloshed over the rim, but he didn’t even notice. He had turned away, placing his hands on his head as a myriad of emotions took hold.

“Bass, I’m sorry,” Jack muttered as he grabbed the napkins that Alex had quickly snatched from the coffee station. “I shouldn’t have—”

“If you have evidence that someone else murdered Rachel, then you should be close to making an arrest,” Sebastian stated after swinging back around. His gaze sought out Kinsley. “Right?”

“We’re still waiting on forensics, and an autopsy is scheduled at noon today,” Kinsley replied as she held his stare. It was no longer required for people to identify the remains of a loved one due to the advances in forensics, though most family members requested to view the body anyway. “We still have questions for you, Mr. Hanson. Would you please sit back down?”

Now that the interview was back on track, Kinsley continued to pose specific questions, each with a different weight of importance. Sebastian appeared genuine in his responses, giving Kinsley and Alex a clearer picture of their victim. Rachel loved to cook, visit local wineries, and had a close relationship with her family. Her biological father wasn’t in the picture.

Nearly ninety minutes passed before Kinsley began to draw the interview to an end. One topic hadn’t been broached, and she still needed clarification on another.

“Mr. Hanson, you mentioned that Rachel got into a fender bender when she rescued a turtle near her place of employment last week.” Kinsley turned off her tablet. She would finish inserting the details when she returned to her desk. “Do you happen to have the name of the man who confronted your wife?”

“I’m sure I have his name somewhere,” Sebastian replied with a frown. He pushed away his empty coffee cup until it was in the middle of the table. Alex had filled the mug twice during the past hour and a half. “We had to turn the damages into our insurance company. Are you suggesting that—”

“We just want to be as thorough as possible.” Kinsley met Jack’s stare, waiting for some wry comment about the police’s ability to do their jobs. It was apparent that he didn’t have much faith in the justice system. “I would appreciate you calling us later today with a name and phone number.”

Kinsley retrieved one of her business cards tucked in behind her tablet. She then slid it across the table. Only when Sebastian picked up the card did she mention the last thing on her list to discuss.

“Rachel’s mother mentioned the two of you were having trouble conceiving,” Kinsley said, softening her tone so as not to offend him. She had worked at establishing a rapport with him during the course of the interview, and she wasn’t ready for that superficial bond to be broken quite yet. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

Sebastian pressed his thumb and finger to his eyes to stem the tears. She hadn’t expected a verbal response. A specific reaction was what Kinsley had hoped for, but it hadn’t come from Sebastian. Jack, on the other hand, stilled the motion of pushing his chair back from the table. The slight hesitation had piqued her interest.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Hanson," Kinsley said as both she and Alex stood to indicate the interview had finally come to an end. “We’ll keep in touch throughout the investigation.”

“Rachel wanted children more than anything.” Sebastian slowly stood, taking the time to slide her business card into the pocket of his pants. He no longer maintained eye contact. “I was on board with the idea until my promotion. We had already been trying for two years. What was so wrong with waiting one more?”

“I’ll escort the two of you down to the lobby,” Alex replied as he opened the door. The horrible stench had been replaced with the delicious scent of bacon. Someone must have used the microwave in the breakroom. “Here is my business card, as well. If either of you can think of anything else that…”

Kinsley followed behind, but she stopped just outside the doorway. As they continued down the corridor, her gaze dropped to their shoes. Both men appeared to wear sizes eleven and twelve.

One detail that she had discovered over the years as a homicide detective was how killers never remembered to get rid of their shoes. They were such odd items to forget.

Clothes? Burned in a fireplace or a backyard.

Weapons? Thrown in a dumpster or a lake.

Shoes? It was as if the thought never even crossed their minds.

Kinsley expected the search warrants to come through any minute. She also added cell phone records, financial transactions, and medical records in her submission. Obtaining any warrants for Jack Hanson would be a little more challenging, given that there wasn’t enough evidence pointing toward him as a viable suspect.

“Aspen!”

Kinsley turned to find the captain resting a hand on the glass partition. The manner in which he swung his reading glasses in the other told of his irritation. Such an observation might have been a little misleading. The bulging vein in his temple indicated anger. The other detectives in the bullpen didn’t bother to hide their curiosity.

“Patrol just received a call about a possible break-in,” Captain Thompson revealed, not bothering to soften the blow. “Looks like your version about Gantz was wrong. He’s back, and I want him found.”